


Watch My Soul Collide

by tamethewoods



Series: Half-Human Sam Winchester's Plight to Hell (and other things probably) [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dark Sam Winchester, Implied Slash, M/M, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-09
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:09:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22179856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tamethewoods/pseuds/tamethewoods
Summary: “As much as Sam was withering away, as much as Sam hated, hated, to admit it, the dark, twisted part of him was finally thriving.”
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Half-Human Sam Winchester's Plight to Hell (and other things probably) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1583089
Kudos: 23





	Watch My Soul Collide

**Author's Note:**

> Hello my cute party people!
> 
> Here’s another one. Will there be another one? Honestly no idea hahaha I have no plans for this series as of now but maybe we’ll get to, like, February or something and I’ll get a crazy good idea that I’ll throw on here.
> 
> Ok! Carry on!

Theoretically, Sam should be dead. 

Skin and bones sit atop a lifetime of confinement, a horrid, wretched responsibility only he could fill. 

It made his head hurt. 

Lucifer’s power in hell is of another realm; it oozed out of the cage, crept down the metamorphic, ribbon-like protrusions that formed from centuries of torture and agony. Sam could feel Lucifer’s influence, sighing throughout Sam’s palace.  _ Sam, _ it said, _ you belong here. You’re finally in your place. You’re home.  _

As much as Sam was withering away, as much as Sam hated,  _ hated, _ to admit it, the dark, twisted part of him was finally thriving. 

The part of him that can see the future, close doors with his mind, blood gushing from his broken nose,  _ that _ part absolutely  _ loves _ it here; loves the broken ruins of his home, the screams and blood and gore and heat and coldness in his bones and sunken eyes and  _ death. _

Demons worshiped him; they knew he was their real king and they were content. 

_ Welcome home, _ they sang. _ Welcome, King. Praise.  _

Sam puked, a repulsive, violent, empty stomach, shaken-to-the-core kind of puke, red and green and  _black_ , so black. 

Then, he went back to work. 

———

Dean watched the sun go down, another swig of whiskey to go with it. 

He hadn’t spoke to Crowley in weeks, tried going to the cemetery but he never showed. Wept on Noreen Greengulch’s crumbled ruin, cursed and spat and shook his fist at the black sky and cried. 

Loneliness was its own kind of demon, burying in his bones and making a home out of his sorrow. 

He’d get Sam back. He would. And they would hide out in San Marino until hell stopped looking for Sam (deep down, Dean knew Sam had to be there, keeping everything together and in one piece, his simple presence was enough to calm the masses of demons that required leadership, they’d always look for him). 

If he couldn’t get Sam out, he’d have to get himself in. 

Dean threw his cooler in the backseat and took off. 

He had a portal to find, after all.


End file.
